The Defenition of Sorrow
by Mixara
Summary: Roxas suffered every moment of every day. Agonizing sorrow drove him to madness, deepening his desire to simply end it all. Axel was the musically gifted son of actor Reno Delmonte. He wanted for nothing in life. When Axel is offered a side job in Twilight Town, the last thing he expected to find was a blue-eyed boy with one foot in the grave. (some horror) UNDER CONSTRUCTION!
1. PROLOGUE

Author's Note:  


A story I've been meaning to type up. I feel like there are things no one ever wants to touch upon when it comes to the difficulties of human life. Especially when we feel more lost and alone then we care to admit. I want to put this into a story that can connect to others, and Axel and Roxas fit the bill for me. Take it easy on me though, everyone. I'm a newbie. Cut me some slack and but the torches away, yeah?

DISCLAIMER:

I don't own anything except the writing style and story telling stuff. But I'm pretty sure you should already know that. -shrugs-

Here ya go, peeps. Enjoy a prologue while I work on the chapters.

**PROLOGUE: The Paltry Existence**

It was a shambling mess, an unrecognizable clump of colors drenched in the darkest of hues. The world in his eyes was no longer what it used to be, and his heart simply couldn't take it. The agonizing pain in his chest was so unbearably strong. How..? How could he go on living with this pain? Why would he even think to?

"It'll be alright", Hayner had said, an uncertain smile on his face, "Things like this pass with time, you know. Right now, we just want to let you know that we are all here for you." His face was creased with worry, fear shining in his eyes.

He was a liar. Everyone was. They said it would go away. But it never did. The hollow pit in his heart never filled. The sanity reducing sorrow, the incomprehensible stab of loneliness and regret that lined the very walls of his soul. Nothing ever mattered, nothing ever felt 'real' to him. Nothing. Where was the sunlight that was supposed to give him hope? Where was the silver lining he was to be waiting upon, eagerly welcoming the heavenly promise of salvation as the darkness lay at his feet? Where? It was never seen.

The sun was shining. He knew it. He could feel its burning rays on his skin. Yet it was too cold, the sky far too grey. He hated that. Hated that everyone basked in the glory of that promising light, while the shadows of his own ill-devised hell caused him to see nothing but rain.

In this world, it always rained. The skies were never alight with promise or false promises. No... It was a world made, created to traitorously remind him that he would never have a place to go. That he would never belong in that god-blessed warmth he so ferverently wished to envelope his soul, frozen in time. It wasn't fair... He felt like screaming, tearing at his flesh and screaming at all those faces down below him, shedding tears that were as unrelenting as the rain that filled his world. It hurt so, so much.

His whole life; a lie. A joke. He didn't deserve happiness, and he was an idiot to think he ever did. A pitiful scream filled his ears, his own, lined with a thickening sorrow and bitterness. Nobody in this world needed him. Nobody wanted him there. No matter where he went, he was met with the foulest of luck and treated with the deepest of hatred. He didn't want to live such a lonely life, such a painful existence. He never needed anyone before. He knew he could survive without others, he had done it for so, so long.

But then that asshole... that fucking intrusive son of a bitch had to show his face and actually give him HOPE. He felt the stirrings of warmth in his heart when that red-headed punk was around. The first real emotions of love and friendship he had ever come to know. But then... then...

Roxas let out another agonized scream, clutching at his chest. The memory of that betrayal was too great to remember. No, instead he would forget. He would destroy that memory... by permanently eradicating his existence altogether. For such an emotion as 'Love' to come to mind. He almost spat with resentment.

"It's simply lust", he spoke hoarsely into the wind, hands clasped over his heart in agony, 'Just...lust..."

But when he remembered those jade green eyes, filling the darkness around him with something powerful, his heart throbbed painfully in his chest.

"To exist without the one you love the most..."

The wind was colder near the edge.

"To live without a heart unable to mend."

He took one step forward.

"To be forgotten regardless of how desperately you tried to remain."

Another step.

"He doesn't need me anymore..."

Numbness took over, then, arms falling to his sides, empty blue eyes gazing at the distant faces on the street below. He closed his eyes, leaning forward, feeling himself fall ever so slowly off the edge, welcoming the oblivion that was soon to come... when a sudden loud yell, filled with such fear and shock echoed on the rooftop;

"ROXAS!"

END PROLOGUE

(And now the fun begins.)


	2. CHAPTER ONE: Free Fall

**Here's the first chapter, peeps.**

**All revised and prettified for you! Everything is still under revision and construction for now. So please, enjoy! **

**As always, the characters do not belong to me. I'm just here for the food.**

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**CHAPTER ONE: Free Fall**

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A cold breeze rustled the dingy shades atop the old window. Eight floors up and the sounds of the traffic below was more audible than it needed to be on a friday morning. Roxas leaned upon the sill, arms hanging out in the frigid autumn air. It was colder today than he remembered. He wiggled his numb fingers, noting the droplets that clung to his skin. It had begun to rain again, as it had all week long. Normally Roxas would find himself pleased with the knowledge, bringing a book and a hot cup of coffee or hot chocolate to the spot on his bed by the window and enjoy the lullaby of droplets that assailed the world below. But today it only filled him with dread. A heaviness that had him rooted to the very spot. He didn't want to move... didn't want to think. Everything in his mind was hazy with sleep, drowning out the painful thoughts that assailed him on days like these, which he didn't mind in the least. The less he thought, the less he had to feel. And not feeling anything at all sounded pretty damn good right about now after the conversation he had with Dr. Gainsborough the other night. Something about treatments and medications being ineffective according to the higher ups in her department.

Chronic depression, they had called it. And with it came a whole new list of fun little drugs the doctors wanted to shove down his throat. None of them helped, of course. But that was only natural, as Roxas never took them. The moment he came back home, he would flush the offensive things down the toilet and be done with it. He would attend regular sessions with his therapist and drop a key word here or there to get the ravenous wolves down at the pharmacy off his back about how well his dosage was working for him or some such nonsense on their end. He inhaled deeply, staring at the washed out world below him with a clarity he did not wish to feel. It was too soon to be awake, too soon to rejoin reality. Yet the silence of his lonely studio apartment roused his vacant mind back into thinking. Pondering. Remembering. That he was alone, and without a single friend or loved one to return to. Hayner, Pence and Olette had all gone off to Destiny Islands University, leaving him with a promise to come back someday to get him, and to always keep in touch. It was such a simple promise, albeit a foolish one. Made under the setting summer sun on the beach they never fully got to enjoy. It was a promise he wanted to believe in. One that they had made with a smile on their faces. But that promise had long since been broken. Roxas never hearing from them again for nearly two years. Had that promise meant nothing to them? Was it all just an empty lie to satiate his childlike loneliness? He buried his face in the crook of his arm, feeling a twinge in his chest. It was definitely far too early to rejoin the land of the living right now. Seriously. Far to fucking early for this shit.

Hayner...Pence...Olette...

A buzzing sound pulled him from his bleak thoughts, sleep addle face turning to scan the small space around him. It was pitifully bare, to say the least. A single bed pushed up against the only window, (which he was now seated on, hanging halfway out of said window), and a small black wooden table in the center of the room with a single grey folding chair. His laptop sat upon the sad furniture piece, screen black with the charger tangled on the floor. Sheets of paper were strewn around it three styrofoam cups from Starbucks decorating the counter-top by the sink in the corner. He would have to remind himself later to clean up the mess before the ants or some such other unpleasant creature found its way into his home, drawn by the sweet smell of a mocha latte. Caffeine made the late nights fare more bearable for him as he typed away late into the night, words without any real wisdom flowing through his fingertips. The written word always gave him some form of escape from the real world. A place he could properly release all of the mephitic thoughts that never seemed to leave his skull. He felt that after today, he would need another long session with his trusty little sidekick if he wanted to properly relax tonight.

He shifted more in his bed, pulling himself away from the window to get a better look around, the buzzing growing louder. A quick sweep confirmed that It wasn't on the table, or on the floor, or on the kitchen counter, which, considering the apartment size, left less than few other places it could be. The buzzing became more and more obnoxious the longer he waited to answer the missing device. Damn it, where the hell did he put the thing? His gaze fell on the open door to the bathroom, his cellphone hanging on the doorknob by a black strap. The buzzing continued, but he made no move to retrieve the cell. It was 8am on Friday morning. He already knew who the message was from and what that message would say. He knew what today was, and he damn well wished he didn't.

After a few moments, the buzzing ceased, plunging the small studio back into the rythmic sound of pattering rain and distant traffic. With a soft sigh, Roxas leaned back out the window, closing his eyes and hoping that would be the end of it. No more phone calls. No more appointments. No more people. Just the cold air, the warm blankets, the falling rain, the-

A knock echoed in the tiny studio apartment. Roxas groaned.

"Mr. Kentell? It's me, Sasha. Are you home?"

The landlady... Roxas didn't like her. She was always trying to talk to him. Trying to soothe his loneliness. It made him feel like he was being pitied, like he was some kind of lonely little hermit who was grateful for whatever company he could get. (Even if he was, he certainly wasn't eager for anyone's company. Not hers, anyway). To top it off, she was always smiling, always laughing. Always cheerful. It unnerved the hell out of him that she would constantly try to direct some of that sunny behavior his way, try to rub some of it off on him like some sort of miracle ointment for toddlers. He didn't hate her. He just hated overly happy people who had no obvious reason to be so goddamn chirpy all the time. Maybe that made him a terrible person, or a selfishly arrogant one. But he didn't care. All he knew what he wanted to sit and wallow in the silence for a bit, and little miss sunshine was right outside his door, making sure that it wasn't going to happen.

"Mr. Kentell? Hello?" More knocking, this time a little more insistent. "Dr. Gainsborough is here, she's waiting downstairs for you. She says it's imperative that you come down immediately.." Sasha's voice was hesitant, uncertain. "I... I'm not allowed to let her come up since she isn't a resident, but she won't leave. Can you please come down?"

Roxas ran a hand roughly through his hair tugging harshly at it. Why the fuck was she so persistent? God, couldn't he just be left alone for a little while? His aggravation began to rise as she knocked unrelentingly at the thick wooden door. The last thing he wanted was to get up from his bed and face yet another day of his life. He just wanted to stay here, to listen to the rain and let his emotions bleed out. He felt so tired, so so fucking tired of everything. Getting up was the last thing he wanted to do right now. But knowing Dr. Gainsborough, she would march right up to the eighth floor and scold him for making her wait in the rain for him. Getting up and facing reality was unavoidable at this point.

"Yeah." Roxas said finally, the incessant knocking grating on his sanity to the point where he was ready to rip the door off its hinges and beat somebody with it. Getting up, he retrieved his black hoodie from the edge of the bed, pulling it over his head. "I'll be down in a few."

Sasha sighed with relief from behind the door, her usual cheery tone coming back."Do you want me to accompany you to-"

"I'm not a child, Sasha." Roxas spat suddenly, crossing the room and swinging the door open. He glared venemously at the small latino woman, not bothering to hide the annoyance he felt, "I can walk myself down."

Sasha took a step back, brown eyes wide with what might have been hurt. She let out a squeak of acknowledgement and walked quickly down the hall to the elevator. But not without a final backwards glance at the moody blonde before the doors closed. She had looked genuinely hurt by the cruel tone he directed at her, shoulders slightly slumped, hands clasped in front of her slightly pudgy body. She was a sweet woman by nature, but sometimes her attempts at helpfulness were a bit unbearable.

Roxas gripped the handle to the front door tightly, feeling like an A+ asshole for that little display of a temper tantrum he just threw. He hated it when people treated him with a friendliness he felt was forced. He didn't like feeling as if others were obligated to be kind to him just because they knew he was alone. They could keep their petty sympathy. He didn't need anyone's kindness, forced or otherwise. Roxas shook his head, grabbing his house keys off the hook by the door and shoved his feet into a pair of checkered high-top converse. The day would be a long one, of that he knew for sure. Long days meant longer intervals where his demons would have reign over his mind, causing his temper to prove more difficult to keep in check. Reality had a funny way of doing that to him, no matter where he went. Roxas didn't want to be that way... he didn't want to go off running around and scare little latino women who were only trying to be kind, or slamming things against the walls because he couldn't find proper release from the bitterness, or injure himself because the hurt that was lodged deep inside never seemed to go away. He let out a miserable sigh, clicking the door shut behind him before trudging down the hall. Why was it so hard to act like a goddamn decent human being for once in his life? Maybe there really was something wrong with him...

The elevator doors opened with a soft chime, the view of the lobby meeting his tired eyes. Dr. Gainsborough stood in front of him as he stepped out, a warmth in her sea green hues that he didn't bother to appreciate today. She greeted him with a kind smile her long brown hair tied back in a neat braid, a pink skirt and pink blouse being her choice of wardrobe today. Her heels clicked on the tiled floor as she stepped closer to him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Hey there, Roxas. Did you sleep well?" Her green eyes scanned his, a hint of worry in their depths. Her smile never faltered.

He shrugged slightly, shifting in place. "Yeah, sure." Being around her made him uncomfortable, like she was looking right through him. Trying to catch him in a lie.

Dr. Aerith Gainsborough smiled again and ushered him out the door, thanking the uncertain looking Sasha for all of her help. Roxas avoided her gaze as he exited the building, not wanting to see the saddened brown eyes that would undoubtedly be searching his if he did meet them. Damn it all if he wasn't just a pissy little shithead today. He begrudgingly made a note to try an apologize to her when he got the chance. Sasha may be annoying, but she was one of the ones who helped him get this place, (shitty as it may be), and offer him a shelter from the coming winter. It may not be perfect, but the heat and electricity were free. Which was absolutely better than nothing.

Stepping out into the damp morning air had such a healing effect on his nerves. The rain felt so good on his face, the fog settling in around the town making him feel a strange sense of security. Twilight Town was never normally seen having this kind of weather during the fall season and though it took some by surprise, Roxas had wished nearly every year for days like this. The roads were hard to see, and the rain hadn't and everything was effectively hidden beneath the fog. Roxas could tromp around the town for hours with no on realizing who he was or where he was going. It was so very liberating for him in many ways. With another sigh, he awkwardly shuffled up to the the Prius while his psychiatrist rambled on about something concerning the conditions of the weather. But he wasn't listening. Even as they drove off, his mind never focused on her words, never made the attempt to converse in any way because he simply didn't want to. Whatever she had to say the other day was enough for him at the moment. The longer she rambled, the less he heard. It was how it always went with them theses days. Dr. Gainsborough knew it, and so did he. But that never stopped her from at least trying to keep the conversation going at any point. He applauded her efforts, but did nothing to initiate them. The sound of the rain was his only focus. His only means of drowning out whatever it was she was currently saying. The blessed sound of that lullaby entranced him to no end.

"...So they decided to agree upon the treatment, and we'll be starting it today."

Roxas looked up suddenly, his stomach churning. His mind picked a damned good time to start listening now. "What?"

"They wanted to start you on some new treatment, you know, just to see if it might help this time around." She glanced briefly at the blonde, her tone taking on that of a mother trying to convince a scared child, "It's only going to be for a couple of months, and they say the treatment has a high success rate with most patients in your... situation."

"Treatment? What the hell do you mean, 'Treatment'? I'm not some hospital patient, Dr. Gainsborough. I thought you said there wouldn't be anymore weird tests or treatments and all that other shit." Roxas clearly remembered the last 'treatment' they tried on him. It put him in a nightmare induced coma for a whole month. That whole fucking building was full of quacks who were quick on their feet to offer up a new and improved miracle 'treatment' to test on a willing (or unwilling) guinea pig. "Whatever it is, I'm refusing it. No way in hell am I being their fucking lab rat again."

Aerith tightened her grip on the steering wheel, the hesitation clear in her voice. "Roxas... I'm afraid there isn't much I can do. They said that you... aren't making any progress, and if you hope to get better, this treatment is needed." She almost sounded like she believed it too.

Roxas felt his face and chest burn with anger, hands clenching painfully. "I'm not trying to get '_better_'. I'm trying to get _out_." He seethed. "My parents dropped me on your lap in the hopes that they could get out of claiming responsibility for another kid. They fed you lies about me being suicidal so they wouldn't have to deal with the embarrassment of facing the mistake they made on their second honeymoon twenty years ago."

"Roxas, that's not why they-"

"Yes it is!" He yelled, slamming his hand on the car door, "I'm not 'broken'! I don't need to be 'fixed' by all these fucking treatments and sessions! I'm not a psycho! I've been telling you that for years and you told me you could help me get out of all of this! You agreed to make them stop!"

"Roxas... they just think you need a little help to-"

"I don't _NEED_ their help!" his voice cracked. Roxas knew. Every day he could feel the darkness closing in around him, the icy fingers of fear threatening to launch him into a panic driven suicide. His parents had fed them all bullshit lies about him being overly depressed and suicidal. The torture he had gone through had caused himto be just that. He knew he had played right into their little fucking plot, and now he literally had no way of escaping this all on his own. It felt like he was a frog pinned to a tray beneath blinding lights, the manic smiles of some wack-job psychologists with scalpels poised above his belly, ready to make the first incision. It was a feeling of utter entrapment, of fear and anxiety in its truest, rawest form. And there was simply no way out of it.

Aerith sighed softly, pulling the car to a complete stop in front of a tall black building. The silence in the car was unnerving. One look at her face, and he knew the argument was a lost cause. There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could say... his parents had successfully lied through their teeth and gotten away with it. They were off somewhere on a beautiful island laughing and smiling and here he was, having his sanity slowly chipped away by people who could give a rat's ass about his well-being. Dr. Gainsborough exited the car, uttering a barely audible apology before Roxas heard the door to his side being opened and felt himself being forcefully ripped out of his seat. The rain had picked up outside, drenching is staggering body as he was dragged into the building's main lobby. Once inside, he tore free of the less than gentle grip of the two large men before him. One was very large, with small eyes and a wide brow whose nametag read 'Lexaus'. Intimidation meant nothing when one looked up at a giant like him. Roxas wondered briefly if this kind of person was really necessary to hire for this line of work. The second one, who stood in front of Roxas, was equal parts muscular, but considerably smaller than the one beside him. He had silver hair and tan skin, his golden eyes shining with something akin to malevolence.

"Hello, Roxas." the tanned man crooned, a smile on his face. "We have a new treatment for you that we would like to try today. Please, follow me." a violent shudder ran through his body. This guy was bad news. There was no doubt in his mind that 'helping' Roxas was the last thing these psychopaths had on their minds today.

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The couch was made of leather and, despite the fact that his skin kept sticking to its surface, surprisingly comfortable. The room was decorated with large bookshelves and potted plants that stood in the corners. Faded olive green hues covered the walls, the floor beneath made of dark wood. Roxas stared out the window, the torrents of rain beating against the large windows that spanned the entirety of the walls, a small bay window with a seat being the only difference on the far corner of the room to his left. He gazed at the storm raging just out of his reach. Dazed and more than a little perturbed by his lack of focus.

"Hm. The treatment should yield results in a few months. But I doubt the boy will take the pills. Just bring him in every other week for a shot." There was a sound of clinking and metal. "He is notably calmer, at least. Which, given his foul attitude is a definite plus. Had to wrestle the brat for ten minutes before we could subdue him." He heard a snicker.

"Xehanort, sir? The file on patient Roxas Keller was transferred just now." shuffling, then the sounds of shifting paper. A deep voice spoke quietly somewhere in the room.

"Chronic Depression? What for, I wonder."

A humorless laugh answered, "His whole life, I presume." Xehanort scoffed and stared down at the catatonic boy. "The parents didn't want him, claiming that he wasn't even meant to be born. Kept trying to either kill him or give him away, claiming him to be unstable and practically suicidal. He suffered a lot of mental trauma from those incidents, causing his teenage years to fall into reckless habits including self-harm, or so they said. Regardless of whether those statements held any merit or not, his ability to cope with society was hindered to the point where he couldn't even function properly in large groups of people, let alone adapt to the ways of society. So says his file, anyway. Someone wanted to take care of this little 'issue', and contacted us to make sure this little problem child never bothered anyone again."

The room was silent for a brief moment. The deep voice sounded perplexed. "You mean they bribed the higher ups into admitting this kid into our care?"

"Not bribed. Offered, really. Offered a new test subject that it. Naturally, we are not allowed to speak of the matter. However," the sound of papers again... he couldn't seem to focus... "Regardless of whether or not that statement has evidence to back it up, his rash decisions and past mistakes are enough of an excuse to keep him here. They don't want to waste money on keeping him in an asylum up on Hollow Bastion. So they pay for a small room somewhere downtown for him, and force him into treatment every other use him for research purposes, they get him out of their hair, we get paid, they reap the benefits, boom; everyone is happy."

"Everyone except him." The deep voice commented. "Not that such a thing even matters, really."

A female voice called from down the hall, interrupting the discussion. Roxas couldn't hear what it was she was saying, but her tone indicated that the matter was urgent. There was a brief curse and clattering movement across the room before a loud buzzing noise filled the room.

"Get me the nurse from the west wing, and tell her to come up to treatment room two. We have a Roxas Kendell on treatment and he needs supervision." The crackling buzz sounded once more with an unintelligible answer and was then clicked off. "Lexaus, grab that bag in the corner and take it to Dr. Gainsborough. There's a file in there that I need her to take a look at concerning the patient in the east wing..."

The voices gradually grew distant, mingling with the warbled sounds of the busy halls outside the door. It wasn't until the room was filled only with the sound of the squall outside that Roxas attempted to move. The medicine they injected into his arm burned painfully, coursing up his arm and into his chest. He felt a strange sensation at the base of his skull as ethereal sounds began to assailed his ears, the walls swaying to the sound of each and every disconnected wail. Nothing at all felt real.

With what little strength the medicine hadn't taken from him, Roxas dragged his weak form upward, casting a glancing down at the needle buried in his arm. A sudden bitterness filled his heart as he gazed at the bruise the 'treatment' was leaving. It wasn't fair... It wasn't fucking fair. Why did he have to endure all of this... this bullshit while Sora, his brother, got to live away his years with a loving family on Destiny Island, going to the beach, laughing and happy and enjoying his life? Why was Roxas the one condemned at birth to a life of constant misery? There wasn't a single soul that loved him, that wanted him, that needed him! Why did it have to be HIM who wasn't meant to be born? HIM who was banished to this empty life? Why?

Reaching a shaking hand toward his right arm, he tore out the needle, in sheer anger. Blood spurt from the wound, darkening a spot on the floorboards and coloring a part of the leather couch in crimson. Pressing his hand down on the angry looking wound, he swung his legs off the couch and stumbled drunkenly toward the bay window. He knew from experience that they never locked the windows in the treatment rooms, because they assumed every patient would be too catatonic to even make an attempt at escaping. Roxas had dealt with more of these 'treatments' than any other patient here, and was still able to move well enough despite the lingering effects of whatever the hell type of drug they stuck in his arm. It was now or never. Drugged or not, he needed to get out, and get out now. He would figure out the rest some other time when his drug addled brain could find the strength to perform proper deductions based on reason. But right now wasn't the time or place for such things.

The thunder outside grew louder, reaching his ears in a deafening tone as he fought to push open the window all the way. His vision darkened briefly as he hung his head over the window sill. The medicine was working faster than he anticipated, which meant he needed to move fast if he wanted to escape. Swinging his right leg over the edge, he squirmed until he was straddling the sill, staring down below. Dammit, if his vision would just focus for a freaking second...He rubbed his eyes in a vain attempt to regain clarity. The darkening of his vision made it nearly impossible to determine just how high up he was, or where he would land, making him hesitate long enough to hear the voices two nurses growing closer to his room. His heart pounded as he weakly forced the rest of his body out the window. The nurses came only in time to see a pair of checkered black and white converse sail over the edge of the sill and down to the busy street below.

The rushing wind was the first sensation. The a sense of flying, everything rushing past in a grey blur of cold rain. Just how high up had he been? How far down was the drop? Was this a dream? His arm was burning painfully... Roxas briefly wondered if the fall would kill him, and if he would mind the death at all. No answer came in that moment, and he felt it never would.

The pavement came into focus, black asphalt rushing to meet him as the rest of the world went into slow motion. Little things came to him with undeniable clarity in those few milliseconds of time;

A flash of red turning the corner, a sudden scream, a startled cry as a face came into view, staring up at his falling form.

Just before he hit, a pair of emerald eyes, filled with shock, locked onto his.

"Holy shit!" the voice sounded raspy, and reached him a fraction of a second before a deafening crack was heard and his whole world went black.

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**More edits to come for the other chapters! This one is fairly recent, but I made sure to go back and revise more of this issshhh. **

**This story has been a plot bunny for me for a couple years, and I wanted to make a story to connect with you peeps. Help me out by leaving a review? Or a message. I'm going to work on the next chapter tonight, so any late night owls out there are welcome to hang and chat and chide me into working hard.**


	3. CHAPTER TWO: The Blinding Fates

**CHAPTER TWO: The Blinding Fates**

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Bleak and heavy atmosphere lingering on a reality all its own, a gust of icy wind cutting to the bone. Maddening ebony sights of endless expanse that left the mind to wonder in fear. An endless torrent of hateful cries tearing through the silence, screeching past and circling back. Body laid bare, arms wide open, no air capable of passing into through your lungs. Every breath only bringing an icy chill to your insides with a pain rivaling a thousand white hot needles. It was a hell stemming from nowhere and everywhere. A place that Roxas felt must have been reserved for the damned. The hellish cries in the distance, the whimpering moans of anguish coming from below. Yet despite the maddening sounds in the floating world, he could still make out the sound of his rapid heartbeat pounding in his ears.

A deep rumbling emanated from somewhere far off in the hollow world, growing in volume until it resembled a voice; gravelly and hoarse as is coughed and sputtered into existence. With each rupturing cough, wispy black tendrils rose from the abyss. two smoldering eyes peeking out of the darkness and pinning him with a glare.

"_This place you found, is a dream unwound. A damaged mind come undone_" Ghostly tones alternated as its voice grew in volume. "If you could bear the burden of your lies, would you find yourself to be stronger? If you could forget the shame filled regrets, would you live significantly longer?" Thin tendrils of smoke rose to touch his cheek. "_If you could find the love you seek, would that satiate your hunger_?"

Though the voice offered some semblance of an explanation as to where he might be, Roxas found no comfort in the tones he used, nor the feeling it gave him. Nothing made any sense. Nothing about those fiery ember optics glinting in the dark felt safe. An involuntary shiver ran through his body at the thought of what probably lay behind the darkness that hid the rest of such a being. The cold tendrils of black smoke, slimy and slithering and cold, locked around his ankles.

"_Think, Roxas. What, oh what, could I possibly be talking about_?" it gave a gravely chuckle, twisting itself around his body. "_T__he life you live, the people you see. You hate everything about it, everything about them. Liars and thieves. Breakers of your heart, thieves of your soul. Wandering a world that never wanted or needed you in any way_."

Something began to stir painfully in his gut. The truth behind those words was something he wasn't ready to admit to, or face. It was the one thing he wanted to avoid, to forget. Not feeling needed.. no one in the world wanting him around, or talking to him. God, it made his chest ache to think he wasn't enough anymore for anyone. He couldn't bear it, he didn't want to. He tried not to think anymore, tried so hard to let everything go like he always did. But the pain seemed to have been magnified in this place. The over-encumbering emotions causing him to hyperventilate as the memories of his failings, of his agony, flashed with perfect clarity in his mind. The emptiness around him began to feel hollower the deeper his mind sank into those unforgiving thoughts.

"Everything you ever wanted, dreamed of. It was left in the dirt. All for the sake of those you thought loved you. Yet here you are, all alone. Again. And again. And again. Just how many times am I going to see you here, Roxas, until you finally break?"

Roxas tried not to hear the rasping voice. He fought to ignore it with all his might, but it was so painful...The memory of the eyes of those he loved so, so dearly. Hayner... Pence... Olette... Mom and Dad and Sora. Every last one of them with a look of disdain, ever so slight, in their eyes just before leaving him in the dark again. He felt like a child, reaching for them, crying out for some form of love, of acceptance. Anything at all to make the frigid darkness in his heart subside. Roxas wanted a mother to hold him, a father to guide him. Friends to care. Someone to love him. The need to feel human, to belong, was so agonizingly unbearable. The intensity of it consuming his very soul. Nothing in this god forsaken world mattered more to him than the thought of being loved, than the wish to hear the words he so desperately desired from the lips of another. To matter. To truly exist... Everything in the world ceased to exist when those dreams would turn into a pair of eyes that beheld him with such love and tenderness that it made him weep with a relief strong enough to make his very bones tremble.

"_Why don't you give me what's left, Roxas? Your soul can only last so long_." The words echoed, but Roxas couldn't hear anymore. All there was, was sorrow. Unending, unyielding agony. Because the truth sat right in front of his face. The ugly truth. No one could possibly love someone like him. Weak. Cowardly. Lazy. Selfish. Incompetent. An absolute fuck up at life itself. No, such happy endings were for people who were worth something in real life. While he, mere pond scum compared to most, would waste away in the shadows of a run down neighborhood where he belonged.

The black tendrils wound tighter around his body, snaking up his spine and resting around his neck and face. He was beginning to lose himself again, to this emptiness he tried so hard to overcome on his own. Paltry whimpers bubbled from dry lips, seizing violently as the world blurred with the lack of oxygen. But nothing mattered anymore. Not even breathing. His heart felt so heavy, so utterly torn. How could anyone live with such agony? Through the blur, he could feel a presence loom directly over him, a cold sensation dragging itself over his eyebrows and settling on his eyelids. The shock of sensation as something sharp dug itself into both of his eyes caused him to scream in surprised terror. No registering of pain, no physical indication of the motion... only a feeling of immense pressure building in his brain. The feeling of something about to explode and release the contents of his skull over the non-existent blackened floor of this abysmal reality.

The rumbling voice let out a mournful dirge, its smoky form shuddering with its cries. The din became louder, the screeches rising to a point of madness. Roxas felt his body convulsing violently as those finger clawed mercilessly at his sockets.  
"There's nothing _here_!" It wailed, "I cannot find it! Give it to me..." the woe in its voice suddenly made sense.

_GIVE IT TO ME_!

He finally understood. Self hatred.

That's what this was.

This was his own self hatred. Clawing, screeching, groaning, as it tore him apart from the inside out.

He knew he should fight back. But he couldn't find it in himself to care anymore.

* * *

**OooOooo**

* * *

Well fuck the world sideways with a rock hard cactus. This was shaping up to be one hell of a vacation in Axel's opinion. Taking a walk downtown after getting lost on the way to a cafe, and almost getting killed by blonde teenagers raining from the sky. Then kidnapping said angsty teen from a mental institute in downtown fuck-knows- where because god only knows why he thought it was the right thing to do. He didn't even know the little twerp midget's name. He didn't even know what came over him! What if the kid was dead? What if the authorities were looking for him? No, nevermind any of that. What the hell would his old man say if he knew there was a possibly comatose escapee in the guest bedroom? Oh, the hell that would ensue.

Fuck. Fuck this fucking shit upside-down in the ass. This was absolute fucking bullshit.

Situations like this never happened to him, and being the son of a famous douchebag father like Reno meant that he went through many strange scenarios in his life that merited enough experience to give someone like Axel a definitive edge when it came to tight spots and difficult situations. Hell, he must have been an expert on sketchy scenarios by now! But a fucking kid falling out of the sky and nearly getting him a free conference with the big buy upstairs? That wasn't something he had on his checklist of things encountered and experience gained. This was his first visit to his father's hometown in years, and in less than a few hours, he had already landed himself in deeper shit than anything he could possibly think of.  
Axel paced the floor outside of the guest room anxiously, running a hand through his fiery mane and swearing under his breathe in anticipation. If this didn't go well, there was only a rough sea of trouble ahead.

"Hey, Axel? You okay, man?" The familiar voice roused him from his brooding, starling him enough to stop momentarily and fix the sandy-haired blonde with a look of gratitude as he offered up a bottle of cold water. "I came over as soon as I got the message from Zex." Sea green eyes cast an uncertain glance at the closed mahogany door. "Is he.. umm..."

Axel shook his head, drawing a hand through his hair,once more and tugging at it lightly. A shuddering sigh escaped his lips. Without warning, he reached past the outstretched hand and grabbed the half empty beer bottle Demyx nursed in his other hand, ignoring the pointed look of irritation. "Yeah... kid's alive. Pretty banged up and probably being followed by harpies in white suits, but still alive. Which is more than I could say for myself if my old man ever found out a dragged a mental patient in here." He mumbled, taking a long swig. The beer wouldn't help, but maybe the buzz would settle his nerves.

"Soooo..." Demyx began, idly rocking back and forth on his feet, "How... uh, exactly did this happen?" He floundered his free hand in front of him at the look he received from his best friend and quickly added, " I mean I already know a little bit of the story from Zexion, since he was the one you called to come pick you guys up and stuff. But, well, I mean... he told me to ask you about all the nitty-gritty details. Kept saying something about repeating it being too bothersome and all." he twisted the bottle cap nervously between his fingers, biting his lip. "So, um. Can you tell me?"

After a few beats and a little bit of consideration, Axel relented with a nod and downed what was left of the beer. He cleared his throat setting the bottle on the floor. "I dunno, Dem. I mean if you really want the whole story, I'd have to begin with the damn phone call from my old man. You know, tellin me to 'come down and visit' or 'the change of scenery would be good for you'. The usual meaningless blabbering he does. Says things to sound like a dad, but doesn't follow up with his actions." He slunk down and plopped unceremoniously on the floor, suddenly losing all of the nervous energy he had earlier. Demyx followed suit, drawing his knees up to his chest, eyes trained on the red-head. "I got tired of it after a while, so I talked to Luxord about booking us a gig here in Twilight Town, using it as a cover up for the visit. In exchange, I promised I wouldn't miss out on practice for the tour. I only agreed to see him so he would stop leaving me annoying voicemails. I mean seriously. He fucking fills the whole goddamn thing up and I'm stuck deleting them all one by one. I mean, seriously. Do you remember that ridiculous one he left me on my birthday that one time?" he grumbled. "Drunk as a fucking loon and about as intelligent as one, too."

Dem smirked with knowing amusement, setting down his water bottle and taking on a more languid and unsteady demeanor. "Axelllll, you shud lerrn to take afftur yer ol' man. Take life in the ass and- no wait, hang on... oh yah! Happy fukinnnnn... tenth birthday kiddo! Yeah! You get to... fukinnnnn... color and shit... use them fancy crayons and whatnot." The slurr and moronic tone was enough to send them both into a fit of laughter. "Like, was he even for real? Fancy crayons? I didn't even know those existed. What are they made out of? Decorated earwax from a monkey?" They had barely regained composure before he tossed another line, "...umm... what else... oh yeah! And always wear fukinnn... sunglasses. Keeps the tigers away. Never know when one may... _come atcha_!" He emphasis the last words with a shake of his hands, breaking into gasping hysterics. "I mean, _seriously_! Do sunglasses make the tigers feel inferior about their fashion sense? Does it act as a forcefield or barrier to, like, deter them from ripping you a new one?" Tears streamed down their faces the harder they laughed, Axel laying face down, his mirth muffled into the carpet, his best friend gripping his side and snorting. "Oh no, a tiger! Hang on, let me just get ol' faithful out here and-"

"DEM! E-enough!" Axel gasped, coughing.

"ha ha! Oh man. There's just no way I could EVER forget that!" he wheezed.

After a lengthy period of giggle fits and heavy sighing, the two calmed down enough for Axel to give a final rough cough and continue his story. "So, yeah. Getting back to the incident. There I was, walking downtown toward the hotel after grabbing some breakfast at that little place by the park on 33rd Street, you know, the one with the killer breakfast burritos? When, surprise, surprise! It starts to rain. And I mean it really rained. Hard. Me being me, I thought, well hey, I can make it five minutes in the rain without melting and save me a couple bucks on a taxi." He shook his head. "I know zilch about this town aside from a couple restaurants. But I thought it was a good idea at the time." The beer bottle fell over as he stretched out his legs, picking at the hallway carpet with his fingers. "And lo-and-behold I got my ass more lost than Waldo after twenty minutes of backtracking. I wound up in some shit part of town where a group of these little snot nosed kids kept asking if I was cosplaying as 'Knuckles.'" Axel screwed his face up at the thought, confusion apparent in his angular features. "Just who the fuck is that?"

Demyx gave a scoff and dismissed the question with a wave, "Video game character, not important to the plotline. Continue."

He shook his head. "Anyway, after dodging the little weirdos I finally decided to ask this chick in a pink suit if she knew where The Terrace Hotel was."

"I already know where this is going."

He was silent for a beat before continuing, his ears turning slightly pink." I had somehow walked forty-five minutes in the pouring rain and landed myself nearly a two miles away from where I was supposed to be."

_"Oh my god."_

"I know! I know! I'm not usually that bad with directions! But jesus fucking christ. Two_ miles_. I can't even tell you how peeved I was! So I said, okay fuck this, I'm getting a taxi. I search around in the rain for a good twenty minutes before deciding to loop back around and ask someone else nearby. I turn around the corner when next thing I know, I heard this little old granny scream 'look out!' I look over and she's pointing at me, but I don't see anything around that could rear up and attack or nothin like that. But when I look up, I see some little blondie makin a free fall dive for my face! I stuck my arms out in a last ditch effort or some shit, and I caught him." He scratched his head sheepishly. "But. ah. I wasn't quick enough. So he still cracked his head pretty hard on the these nurses came out and tried to pick him up and... Everything got sort of crazy from there."

Demyx fixed him with a questioning look as he trailed off. But Axel couldn't bring himself to meet his gaze. The memory of the incident was still too fresh, and to be honest, it was all sort of fuzzy. Grey and hazy while the world slowed to a stop; a freeze frame of that pale and limp body laying haphazardly across his own. Those thin arms, one marred with thin almost unnoticeable jagged scars running up the forearm, the other sporting an angry looking bruise. The head tilted back, shocks of flaxen locks dyed crimson as warm blood oozed from an unseen wound. It was enough to knock the air from his lungs, the way he looked so much like a fallen angel. Beautiful even with a mask of death on those youthful features. He sat up, moving to cradle the heavenly assailant in his arms. Time moved once more as those eyes fluttered open briefly,eyes as blue as the deepest of skies gazing with blindly, blinking and rolling as he tried to regain consciousness. Axel opened his mouth to say something, but the insistent tugging on his arms interrupted his thoughts. Stern-faced cows donning a nurse's uniform now surrounded the two of them, moving to take the youth from his grasp.

He stood there, being tugged upward and unable to make heads or tails of precisely what in the actual fuckery was going on. The fumbling blonde made seemed to have regained enough of his senses to make a feeble attempt at fighting back when he was lifted by his arms. The blood that mixed with the puddles of muddy rain water beneath him made Axel's heart drop into his stomach. Jesus, there was just so much of it everywhere. He tried to step forward, tried to find someway to help. But those damned nurses kept telling him to 'kindly leave the patient to them'. Yeah, like hell he would. They made aggressive grabs at his arms and legs, yanking and pulling at those horribly abused and now pale, bruising limbs. So many people gathered around, whipping out phones and cameras, whispering and gossiping, some even laughing. God it made him so angry to see that. He tugged harder at the hands on his arms and promptly told them to 'fuck the hell off'. He had turned around in time to see the kid take a spill off the curb and land with his face in the mud.

He had laid there, shivering. Sobbing into the muddy water, attempting to drag himself away from those white-clad harpies. People laughed, pointed, jeered. Some shook their heads, but most walked away. Sapphire eyes searched those faces endlessly the misery plain in those pitiful sobs. But not a single fucking person even bothered to help him up. It made him sick.

Then those blue orbs rested on him, a pale and trembling arm reaching out to graze its fingers atop his shoes, continually moving forward at an agonizingly slow pace until those shaking fingers locked around his ankle. Axel couldn't move. Didn't dare to move away from that fragile grip. His gaze fell on those eyes, and his heart nearly broke at the desperateness he saw there. A raspy plea. lost to the sound of the rain. Mud smeared across those rounded features while the crowd continued to watch.

His breath caught in his throat painfully. This was fucking enough.

Without a second thought, Axel reached down and took that shaking hand, pried it from his ankle and hoisted the blonde upright. "You and me are going for a little walk." He said, pulling the boy up and over his shoulder. There was a look of brief confusion and surprise on many faces before Axel promptly decided to book it down the street as fast as his lanky legs could take him. The kid was a lot fucking heavier than he looked, but all be damned in the world if he was going to leave the poor kid to those hateful harpies in the middle of the street in downtown fucks-ville. He would think about the consequences when they came. But right then and there, his only focus was to run, to run and get as far away from all of those prying eyes as humanly possible.

The whole thing was a blur of motion, reckless decision making and a helluva a lot of sprinting. Axel rubbed a hand roughly over his face and mumbled softly, "That look... and those scars. I couldn't help it Dem. I just fucking picked him up and ran for it. You should have seen those goddamn cows out there, yanking and pulling him and shit. And nobody even helped him! Some asshole even had the gall to laugh when one of the nurses pulled his hair. How fucked up is that? Really fucked up, right? Please tell me this wasn't the wrong decision. Please tell me I did the right thing, Dem."

There was a long stretch of silence as Demyx regarded his best friend with a contemplative air. With a heavy sigh, he leaned forward and gave a sympathetic pat to the red-head's knee, "... and here I thought you were just a condescending asshole who only comes to my house to eat all of my food and crack on my taste in music."

"Well to be fair-"

Their banter was cut short as a blood curdling scream erupted from behind the guest room door.

* * *

**OooOooo**

**This stuff is still under construction. I'm really trying to make it sound decent for you guys. I'm hoping it's getting there! Please let me know what you think! I would greatly appreciate it! **


	4. CHAPTER THREE: Circumstances

**Newly revised and edited! **

**:D**

**Squeeee!**

* * *

**CHAPTER THREE: Circumstances**

* * *

Hazy golden light, blinding and utterly painful to his sleep addled brain was the first thing his frazzled senses picked up. It stung his eyes, and he brought up a hand to try and block it out. He blinked a few times, swallowing thickly. Jesus, it felt like he just went through a meat ringer eight times over and then was defenestrated out the nearest window. There was a dull ringing in his left ear and his head hurt like a bitch. He could feel thick blankets over him, a soft mattress underneath him. But he couldn't make anything out with that light so close to his face. Was he in some kind of hospital?  
No, the room was too warm for that, and through the haze, he could just barely make out a carpeted floor and wine colored drapes closed over a large looking window. Roxas squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of nausea hit him. That damn light was too much... that ringing wasn't helping either. Wait... he could hear something more if he concentrated hard enough to tune out the annoying sound. There was the distinct metallic sound of scissors snipping away at something, (fabric, maybe?), and soft murmurs coming from the same direction. Taking a deep breath in, he cracked one blue eyes open, squinting into the offending light. There was a lamp to his right, annoyingly close to his face on what looked to be a bedside table. At the foot of the bed, there was a figure seated at a desk, cradling a phone between his right shoulder and ear, back turned to the bed. The quiet conversation was beginning to form coherently in his ears.

". . . I'm fully aware that my absence is an inconvenience." The voice was somewhat deep, so it must be a male. "The experimental stage can hold off for another week, so it should not be a problem if someone else just fills in for the meetings." His voice was steady, but there was a hint of annoyance to that soothing voice. "It isn't rocket science, Vexen. Just take the test tubes out of the freezer and put them in the chamber." A brief silence followed, in which Roxas could hear the shrill cry of someone on the other side of the phone. The hazy figure removed the phone from his ear, holding it lazily in the palm of his hand with a laborous sigh. Many minutes seemed to pass with him like that, patiently waiting for the person on the other end to finish whatever it was they were screaming about. After a beat, he placed his ear back on the earpiece and replied in an even tone, "Considering the current state of compromise, yes. This is far more important than the meeting. Now, if you insist on shouting at me in an uncivilized manner, I am afraid I must end this discussion where it is and we can debate further on the topic come Monday morning." Without looking up, he clicked the phone back on to the receiver in one fluid motion and the metallic sound of scissors continued. There was a noticeable rigidness to those shoulders that wasn't there before. He must be angry.

Roxas watched and waited for a while, blinking and allowing the haziness in his vision to lift of its own volition. When he felt he was coherent enough and the buzzing in his brain wanned into a dull hum, he unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth and swallowed a few times before letting out a rasp. It was a pitiful sound, a feeble attempt at speech. But it caught the stranger's attention. They seemed startled at the sound at first, briefly looking around before looking over their shoulder and fixing Roxas with a look that could only be described as utter shock. But when they spoke, their tone was still as calm as it had been before.

"My, my. So you're awake." Eyes the color of cool steel held his own, shining with intelligence. One was partially covered by long bangs that reflected the blue-grey blinking back at him. "And here I was, ready to hand you over to Vexen for further analysis." The light lilt in his voice made him realize it was meant to be a joke. But he couldn't focus on anything but those eyes. They were beautiful. Like a stormy sky by the ocean side. Roxas blinked back dumbly, shifting himself to a sitting position with more effort than was necessary.

"Uh.. yeah. But, can you maybe," he cast a brief glance around the room once more, noting the door to the left of the bed, "tell me where I am?"

"I _could_." The stranger stated lightly. "But how about we get to know eachother first?"

"What? Why?" He was struck by how utterly stupid and incredibly suspicious that sounded, but at the same time, he found himeself wanting to know more about this guy.

"Well, considering you fell out a window and nearly killed a friend of mine, I think it's only fair." The chair was swiveled around, those stormy eyes locking on to his once more. "Not only that, but I just had my ear blown off by a coworker for calling out of work to come _and_ make sure both you and said friend were alive and well. Asking a name shouldn't be like pulling teeth when you look at it from my perspective."

His words were pointed, the slight aggravation more than apparent in them. With only slight hesitation, Roxas assented and mumbled a reply. "...My name is Roxas. It wasn't like I was intentionally aiming for your friend. He sort of just... happened to break my fall." The last part was added lamely, a hand rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.

"Hm." the stranger considered him briefly, before nodding and standing up. "I'm Zexion. I'm a doctor and a neurological expert. You had a pretty bad gash in the back of your head when you cracked it on the pavement. You won't be able to stand without some help for a little while, and I'm keeping you under watch for the next forty-eight hours to make sure you don't fall into a coma."

"A coma?" Roxas parroted back. "Why a coma?"

A thin eyebrow raised at that. "You almost _cracked_ your _head_ open. What exactly did you expect?"

Good point.

Zexion bent back over the desk to pick up a pile of long white fabric, and moved to stand by the lamp. He carefully sat on the bed, organizing the bandages on his lap meticulously. The silence stretched between them for a bit, causing the humming in his left ear to rise to an annoying pitch. He vacantly rubbed at it, face scrunched in mild agitation. The motion didn't go unnoticed.

"The ringing should subside in a few hours. The pain, however, will be a more common companion as the days go by. Let me know immediately if the pain worsens or if you experience severe dizziness." Geez, this guy sounded exactly like a doctor. It almost sounded rehearsed.

"Are you going to tell me where I am or not?"

"Do you really not remember?" was the immediate response. He didn't even look up. Just kept his eyes on the varying pieces of fabric lined up alone his knees.

Roxas blinked. Did he? Flashes of mud caked on his arms, laughter and shouts and-... and eyes the color of the deepest of jade shining in his vision just before the darkness hit. Everything else was too foggy. Passing streets, the world moving faster than his brain could register. Something prodding painfully into his stomach while the world bounced around in his vision. Then... nothing. Absolutely nothing else came after that. What exactly happened after that?  
"Was I carried here?" it was spoken softly, almost tentatively.

Eyes the color of rain regarded him carefully. "Yes, Roxas. You were carried here. Do you remember who it was?" the blonde shook his head silently. "Do you remember anything at all?" Roxas gave a noncommittal shrug. "Alright. then tell me what you DO remember."

He hesitated. "Green. I remember seeing green eyes. Like, really green. Forest green."

Zexion nodded. Reaching over and gently pulling Roxas' wrist towards him, turning it palm-up. "I see. Well, that set of eyes just so happened to be the friend you nearly killed by falling out a window. He carried you here and then proceeded to call me in the middle of-" he stopped. "Roxas?"

Blue eyes fixed on the bandaged arm in Zexion's grasp, dried and crusted blood soaked in various locations. The humming in his ears grew to a crescendo, a million terrified thoughts ripping through his mind. His arm trembled, teeth chattering, voice a panicked whisper, "M-my-my arm. My arm. Why is it-" there suddenly wasn't enough air in his lungs, the buzzing canceled out any other sound, and he was only able to make out a muffled word or two from a pair of lips that were closer to his face than before. Storm grey eyes alight with deep concern and a tinged with fright. Nothing about that face made sense for some reason. It didn't seem quite... right.

" - to calm down!" were the muffled words.

Roxas willed himself to concentrate, blinking furiously, feeling warm rivuletes of water mark his cheeks.

"Do you hear me? You have to _calm down_! Breathe!"

Breathe?

One deep inhale, then a violent choke. It felt like water was filling the air around him. Everything in his chest became too tight, too heavy. And all at once, the dreams that ripped him from his slumber threatened to take over him once more as the buzzing was replaced with the faint sounds of screams.

"I don't want to sleep!" it was his voice, begging and pitifully fearful. "I did that, didn't I?"

"Roxas, what-"

"I don't want to sleep! I don't want to sleep! I _can't_-" that dark abyss, those ember eyes. He didn't want to be alone with that. If he went into a coma, then that meant that... he spluttered in terror.

"Roxas, calm down! No one is going to make you do anything! Just breathe, it's alright!" arms gripped his shoulders tightly, then moved to envelope him in a tight hug. "You're safe! You're okay! Just breathe, Roxas, _breathe_. There you go. Inhale, exhale. Slowly. You're okay, Roxas. You're okay..." choked frantic words met his ears, and he proceeded to rub the panicking blonde's back. "Roxas, breathe. I can't understand what you're saying. Just focus on breathing."

The world slowly came back into focus, everything going silent once more as his ragged, shallow breathes filled the vacant air. The smell of cologne and antiseptic filling his senses altogether. It was uncomfortably warm and invitingly soothing. He stayed like that, in the arms of a complete stranger before he was capable of breathing with some semblance of normality. No screams. No humming. But the fear was still present, and sat with cold fingers, digging itself into the back of his head.

"I did that.. I did that, didn't I?" he whispered fearfully.

No response. Only a faint sigh that warmed the left side of his face was any indication that the question had been heard. They stayed like that for a few moments longer before Zexion pulled back, looking oddly tired. Pale lips opened and shut twice before any sound came out. "No, Roxas." the words were careful, almost cautious. "No. You didn't do this to yourself. The person who brought you here told me that you fell on some broken glass on the curb. The women who were there apparently dragged you across it, and it caused multiple wounds on both of your arms." He smiled wanely. "You didn't do that to yourself. So relax, alright?"

Relief spread through Roxas' bones at lighting speed. He was almost certain his body had turned to putty in that moment. "I.. So I fell on glass?"

"Well, fell and then dragged across it. Really, it looks like you got into a fight with a cheese grater. But I changed the bandages regularly. So it's not as bad as it looks. I guarantee it."

Roxas smiled despite himself. "Thank you..."

That small smile grew a fraction, followed by a tender pat on the head. "Sure. But I need more bandages and rubbing alcohol for those wounds. Not to mention antibacterial ointment. One of those cuts are particularly deep. So wait here a moment, and I'll be right back."

The blonde nodded in response, settling back against the sheets, the pillow feeling blissful as it enveloped his throbbing skull.

* * *

Zexion leaned out into the hallway, spotting a head of red hair leaning over the light of a DS, scowling angrily. Another head of sandy blonde hair leaned over the light as well, pointing at the screen and mumbling incoherently. If the current situation in the room behind him wasn't the first thing on his mind, he might have almost been impressed at how quiet those two had been during the whole ordeal. He stepped out into the hall completely, shutting the door behind him with a soft sigh. This was a lot deeper than he initially thought it would be. It would take a lot more work to get this kid on the road to recovery than he initially thought. But with his work schedule and the amount of things piling up, he wasn't so sure he could tackle the problem head-on until he had freed up his schedule a bit more. Vexen wasn't going to be happy about that either.  
Zexion shook his head solemnly, moving to where his two friends were huddled by an outlet. "We need to talk." they both looked up in unison, matching expressions of surprise and apprehension meeting his own somber one."But first. Can one of you retrieve a bottle of cold water for me?"

Axel made a face of discontent and shut the DS. "Retrieve? What am I, a dog?"

Demyx responded with a click of his tongue and a roll of his eyes. The sandy blonde stood and briefly patted Zexion on the shoulder. "_I'll_ get it for you, Zex."

"Suck up." Axel mumbled.

"Lazy fuck." Demyx retorted before jogging down the long hall.

The red head scoffed quietly. "That guy is always too happy to help people. Could ask him to take out his own mother and he'd just ask you what tool you preferred for the job." he stood, stretching his arms above his head and yawning loudly.

"At least he's sincere in all that he does. No ulterior motives of any kind. You could take a lesson in learning from Demyx. It might earn you an actual fan or two. Well, for your personality at least." Zexion smirked, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. "And isn't this your house? I'm surprised you're letting him get the water instead, considering his track record. What was it now? Three broken vases, six new appliances and a heavy debt with a red guitar?"

A chuckled echoed in the hall as the redheaded punk strode lazily over to the window. "Ah, well. It's a bottle of water. Not sure how he could possibly fuck that up. Besides. If I recall correctly, you could also take a lesson from that idiot. You never seem to do anything for anyone else unless it comes with personal profit. Much like me."

"You would think," Zexion began, eyes narrowing slightly fixing Axel with a pointed look, "That leaving work early, in the middle of a meeting, no less, to come and pick you up would give me a little more credit. Leaving my colleagues by themselves is a deep risk. One I wouldn't take unless I knew the matter was urgent."

"I'm pretty sure there's self profit in there somewhere..." the redhead sighed, scratching the back of his head. "But yeah. I guess I can't grill you on that. Thanks for that, and whatnot. But really, I'm more interested in how sleeping beauty is doing in there. How's our comatose patient, doc?"

"He's awake now, with no noticeable speech impediments or other physical indications of damaging mental trauma. Looks to be just a deep gash which will most definitely need stitches. Better than the quick patch job I pulled in there. The concussion is managable. However..."

Axel looked up when he trailed off, emerald eyes focusing on his face. "However..?"

A beat of silence before a deep and aggravated sigh filled the air."...However. His mental stability seems to be quite... fragile. He took one look at his arm and had a brief panic attack."

"An anxiety attack? Over cuts? What is the kid afraid of blood or something? He one of them squeamish types?"

"I contemplated the possibility myself. But that doesn't seem to be the case." Dark blue eyes met green before he continued. "He asked if he had done it to himself."

Axel blinked."He what? Wait, so you mean he freaked out because he thought it was due to self-harm?"

"Yes."

"And what did you tell him?" the question was wary, suspicious.

Zexion was quiet. His eyes looking back down the hallway, crossing his arms. It was a full two minutes before he spoke, his response a barely audible murmur, almost as if he were speaking to himself rather than Axel. "I quelled his worries by telling him that he fell on a glass bottle during the struggle downtown with the nurses."

Axel's mind reeled. The muscles in his jaw jumped as he clenched his teeth. Zexion was never in the habit of lying. He never saw the need to hide the truth since. in his eyes .it was just a way to delay the inevitable and would only hinder the progress of the situation. He kept a cool head, and an honest code. It was how he worked. Axel knew this, as did everyone else who worked with him at some point or another. Which is why he was left with an immense sense of unease. Why would Zexion feel the need to compromise his moral standing to comfort a complete stranger? Something bode ill about that, and it sat like a proverbial elephant in the room.

"So you lied." he stated bluntly, turning to lean on the window sill. His friend was silent, but that was all the response he needed. "Well there's a first..." Axel shook his head, "Why am I not liking where this is going."

Nothing else was said as he closed his eyes, pressing his back to the cold glass of the window. A steady hum of raindrops the only sound to pierce the silence. It was a Friday evening, filled with regrets that Zexion wasn't sure he was willing to contemplate at the moment. There was much to be done. Too much to do, and the longer they waited and tiptoed around the issue, the worse it would become. Whatever this was, it was something he was sure was beyond their current power. Only time would tell where this would lead.

* * *

**Still under construction! **

**Thanks for the read and review, you guys! I really appreciate this! WEEEEEEEEEE~!**


	5. CHAPTER FOUR: Within

**If anyone is still out there, sorry for the long wait... I'm feeling alot of what Roxas is feeling right now. **

**Life can be real bummer. **

**Anyway, here ya go, my apologies. :(**

* * *

**CHAPTER FOUR: Within**

* * *

"_More rainfall coming our way this week with a hurricane warning to the south. Everyone is advised to stay indoors for the time being until a more recent update is available. There are expected to be floods in the downtown area as well. High of sixty two degrees and a low of thirty eight. That's it for the weather forecast, now back to Rebecca with. . ."_

It didn't stop. The torrential rainfall outside the guestroom window only seemed to grow in ferocity as the grey morning light glowed on the bleak site beheld by bored, sapphire eyes. Such a waste. A waste of his time, his life, to be worrying about getting soaked if he attempted the long trek back downtown to his lonely little abode. It was only water. And it wasn't a matter of where he would go now, but rather, what he would do once he was out of this ritzy, strange house. Roxas found himself tapping his fingers idly on his knee, realizing that regardless of how he rationalized, his body would remain in the same position by that window, sitting on the sill with his feet resting on a nearby chair, until the incessant rain had finally ceased. It wasn't that he hated the rain... it was just that being cold and wet wasn't exactly a comfortable thought for him. Nobody liked wet clothes...

" . . . _downtown today, a young teen was seen tossing himself out a window, allegedly falling on well known rock-star idol and lead singer of famous _  
_band 'Ruin', Axel Delmonte. We have a few videos sent by witnesses documenting the event_ . . ."

Roxas had heard the story nearly twenty times in the few hours he had been awake. The same story over and over, no matter what news station he changed it to. The female news reporters voice grated on his ears, her slightly amused tone rubbing him the wrong way as her sickeningly red lips quirked into a smug grin. With an aggravated flick of his wrist, he shut off the small television that some mullet headed psycho brought in for him the other night. What seemed like a general act of kindness suddenly seemed like an insult at the moment, the static crackling lightly over the glass dome on the old screen TV seeming almost mocking in a way. This was just... fucking perfect. A muck of a mess this all turned out to be. It wasn't enough. It was never enough. It always got worse somehow. And despite the hope that everyone so diligently promised him would show, he never saw the end to the rain. It was never enough...

"Why me." Roxas groaned quietly to himself, running a hand roughly through blonde locks, tugging abusively at them. "for once I'd like a single day where I don't feel like my life is some running joke for the universe to laugh at..."

The rain picked up once more, the sound of ethereal fingertips tapping rapidly on the glass beside him. He could smell the rain, but faintly. The cold glass pressing gently against his shoulder, the darkening skies his only witness of existence. Nothing felt right here... nothing felt real. Even with eyes glued to those morose heavens, the chill touching his skin, the whisper of fog left from his silent breaths on the window... nothing felt real. His mind pleaded his reality, his life. His heart felt hollow, and painfully so. Throughout his pathetic years of life, he never knew a time when that hollowness was ever absent. It sat, like a black bird in his chest. Heavy and agonizingly apparent. No matter how hard he tried to feel, how hard he tried to remain, there was just... nothing he could tether himself to, nothing to give him some kind of affirmation that yes, he did in fact, exist. All family members disclaiming him. What few friends he had all moved away, leaving him behind. It was one thing to feel alone. But feeling lost and without purpose was nigh on unbearable. Without anything connection to the world he resided in, Roxas felt he may drift away at any given moment, destined to be forgotten, not even a memory in place of his faded soul. Such a thought was enough to nearly make him choke of the anxiety he felt.

Roxas pushed himself away from the window, leaving the view and the dark thoughts it wrought for the comfort of the messy bed across the room. His skin felt colder than ice after that long perch, and sliding beneath the large comforter, curling up beneath its dark depths felt almost too good. The steady thrum thrum thrum of pattering on the window, the gentle hum of heat pouring through the vents in the room... A mundane lullaby, one so comforting that the anxiety in those tired, cold limbs of his seemed to dissipate. How funny it seemed, to be comforted by such everyday sounds, ones normally left to the background of one's life, never noticed but seemingly always there. It soothed him, lulled him into a deep slumber, where dreams of a crying girl in white awaited him...

* * *

"Holy fuck dude, that is a big ass cucumber." Axel whistled, a devilish smirk appearing on his face. "And just WHAT, pray tell, do you expect to do with that little number, Dem?" the barely contained amusement in his tone made Demyx give him a pointed look.

"I got this from Marluxia's garden. It was for the cucumber salad I was going to make tonight, or did you forget?" Demyx walked around the kitchen counter, pulling out various items from the shopping bags and putting them away, trying to keep the aggravation out of his voice, "And before you say anything smug, let me remind you that I don't have to make enough food for four people. I can just give your share to suicide boy."

"okay, numero uno, getting anything, and I mean, ANYTHING out of Marluxia's garden is never a good idea. Numero dos, I would clean the hell out of that monster veggie if you knew what was good for ya. And numero tres, He's not suicidal, Dem. I recall tossing you out a few myself, and you're not suicidal. In fact you're the most anti-negative thing I've come across in my life besides pizza." The redhead pulled up a chair, plopping in it unceremoniously, stretching out his long legs with a yawn. They had walked to the general store earlier that morning after finding out that nearly half of the cabinets in Reno's place was filled with booze and expired pasta boxes. They had only come to this realization when they came down with the munchies after a long night of taking turns watching the blonde kid, Zexion giving them strict orders to call him immediately if he went into another episode. Neither of them got much sleep, and both were as equally hungry as they were tired. To top it off, their clothes were soaked, and it looked like a hurricane warning had been issued. Axel peeled off his wet hoodie, squeezing out his red locks with a sigh. "Anyway, if he was, I'm pretty sure he would have made a second attempt by now, don't you think?"

He shrugged dismissively, "Yeah, well, the window incident with me was a different case entirely. But with him you never know. And seeing as how this kid doesn't seem to have a psycho for a friend who tosses others out a four story house over hair gel, I'm willing to guess that isn't the case with this one. I'd feel sorry for the kid if it were, though. I mean, seriously, I -" A loud crack of thunder followed by a flash of light cut him off, lights flickering briefly. "Shit!" Demyx squeaked, reaching down hastily to pick up a glass jar of jam that rolled off the counter when he jumped, "That fucking scared the hell out of me!"

Axel 'hmm'ed in response, leaning back in his chair. "That actually struck pretty close. I think I might go check if my old man left a generator in the basement, case the power goes out, you know? Of course, knowing him, he might have taken it somewhere to use for another of his ridiculous hair-brained schemes. Him and Rude like making home-made bombs on a regular basis. Can't tell you how many times I've had to peel his sorry ass off the garage wall after something of his blew up."

"I think I was there for once of them. Blew a hole clean through the ceiling if I remember," he chuckled, "You might want to get on that, though. Your house is run only on electric shit, and I hear it's supposed to be cold tonight. I agreed to sleep over for the week because you promised me a warm bed and some horror movies, and there is no way in hell I'm freezing my nutsack off in this frigid tomb of a house. Not good for the complexion, you know."

"I'm sorry, what? Your _complexion_? How in the hell does cold air ruin your complex-? You know what, forget it. I don't even know why I bother questioning half the shit you say anymore. I'll let Zexion do that. In the meantime, I'll get to searching for that generator." Axel stood up with a stretch, pulling off his shirt and shaking the rest of the water from his hair. "If Zexion shows up while I'm still looking for it, let him know that the first aid kit needs more bandages, and that his boss called earlier asking for some report about, ah... what was it... new-ro... nur-ro... something scientific or some shit."

Demyx gave a dorky salute before turing his attention back to the groceries that littered the counter. They had bought enough food to last for two weeks, apparently. So if worse came to worse, they would at least not have to worry about going hungry if a hurricane really was going to hit. Still, not having electricity would a kick to the proverbial balls in terms of heat. This place becomes an icebox when the power is out, even in the middle of summer. A downside to such a big place, but hey. His old man liked ritzy stuff and big houses. Fuck if he knew why. Took too much work to maintain it anyway, and Axel being the lazy son of a bitch he was, avoided hard work like the plague if he could help it.  
"Now where did I put that flashlight..." he mumbled to himself, trekking down the carpeted hall to his bedroom, "I think I last had it when pop lost his wallet in the basement that one time. So it should still be in the closet..." he pushed open the door to his room, tossing his wet clothes in the hamper and pulling on a dry pair of boxers and black pajama bottoms, but was unable to find a shirt. "Shit... looks like I need to do laundry again. Ugh. Makes me feel like a woman... not that I'm against women or something...man, I've got to stop talking to myself." Another flash of light and a loud crash sounded through the house. The fading rumble seem to vibrate the walls, making Axel feel a bit uneasy standing there in a dark room by himself. The hallway light was enough to see by, but it didn't help that it was unusually dark even though the clock on his nightstand read 10:02am. It felt... unnatural. Creepy, almost. Sudden flashbacks of the late night discussion with Zexion gave the darkness around him a whole new kind of depth, for some odd reason that was unapparent to him. The shadows seemed to shift, the room seeming smaller than before... Axel clicked on the lava lamp near the nightstand, allowing himself to believe that any source of light would ward off anymore intrusive thoughts he might have while he was in there. Still... that weird conversation did get him thinking...

* * *

_(flashback)_

"It's a lot like night terrors," he had said, "It's a lot like sleep walking, only it's ten times harder to wake up from. You wind up living through a 'waking nightmare', as it would seem. The subject will seem completely aware of their current surroundings, able to navigate properly throughout their current area. However, they cannot see anyone around them. They are unaware that they are dreaming. It comes in all forms, I suppose. In Roxas' case, it appears that he has night terrors much like the one I have explained. He was completely aware of certain things, like opting to throw certain things or attempting to escape through the open door. But he didn't actually see us. He was only aware of the immense amount of fear that he felt, and the signals to his brain indicating that he was in extreme danger."

"So... he had a night terror." he nodded. "Right... aaaannndd... if that's the case, why did he mutilate himself in his sleep? I mean... I've never really heard of sleepers who hurt themselves like that before."

Zexion seemed to think carefully, taking off his well worn pair of frameless glasses before looking back up at him. "Sometimes nightmares can be connected to traumatic experiences, ones that were suppressed by the brain at a young age. In those instances, it can come back full force in a dream. One that will cause the dreamer to re-experience the horrors they tried so desperately to forget."

Demyx cast a doleful look at the closed door to Roxas' room. "So... he's living through a moment where someone caused him that much physical pain? Was he... abused or... something?"

A grim silence had weighed between the trio as they all stood, huddled in the cold hallway. Both Axel and Demyx waited expectantly on the slate-haired man's reply. But it was a while before he could figure out the right words to say. What came out next wasn't something they were expecting at all.

"... Not abused, so much as tortured."

"What?" they had said in unison.

"There are certain things to look for when dealing with victims of abuse. Even night terrors cannot hide the symptoms that will inevitably reveal it. But this is not the case. He showed increased hysteria and nearly doubled physical strength. He seemed to be trying to escape from something, or someone. And whatever or whoever that might be was physically attempting to kill him. Or at least, that's what he said it felt like before he fell asleep again. I have reason to believe that something more might be going on here that we aren't aware of yet. However I cannot look anymore into it, as I am more than exhausted and must deal with work related grievances come morning. I trust he will be alright in your care?"

"Don't sweat it, Zexy, babe." Axel smirked, "We got this. He'll be asleep for a while, I'm guessing. You know, since you gave him those pain killers. So all we have to do is let him sleep. He'll be good as new in the morning."

"Yeah!" Demyx chimed in, all smiles. "I'm sure he'll be alright once he gets some good rest and some equally good food in his stomach! I'll make breakfast tomorrow, and a big one at that!"

Zexion's expression seemed to soften as he regarded Demyx's beaming face. "...I entrust him in your care then." He then cleared his throat and gathered his things, "I will be back around mid-morning or noon tomorrow. Make sure to keep a close eye on him. And I mean a CLOSE eye. Call me immediately if anything happens. I will be over as soon as I can."

"Right."

"You got it, man."

With a final nod and a wave, he had left. Leaving Axel with an oddly heavy feeling in the center of his chest. Whatever it was this kid went through, it had to be bad to spark a night terror like that...

_(end flashback)_

* * *

A few hurried searches and couple of stubbed toes later, he found the flashlight on the closet shelf and made his way back down the hall towards the kitchen. Everything seemed normal enough, but Axel couldn't help but feel something in his chest when he noticed Demyx standing by the entry way, looking down the opposite hall, his long and thin fingers gripping tightly at the front of his shirt. He was still, pale, looking incredibly unnerved by something. When Axel tried to tap his shoulder, he turned and grabbed him by the arm and pulled him to the entry way, making a motion with his hands to be silent.

Nothing came to him but the dull hum of the overhead kitchen lights and the whirr of the ceiling fan in the living room across the way. The hall was empty. There were no sounds of anyone walking around, no weird noises. Just the rain outside and other average noises. "Dem, what the hell are you-" Demyx covered his mouth, hand pushing forcefully against his lips, wide sea green eyes pleading for him to listen closely. Axel sighed through his nose, rolling his eyes. But he didn't attempt to speak again, humoring Dem, but only because he seemed incredibly freaked out about something.  
The harder he listened, the less he heard. It wasn't until he felt Demyx's hands grasp his right arm in a crushing vice that he dared to believe the fright that lined those wide eyes. He listened once more... and then felt his heart quicken a pace when heard it.

**_The tides of fate meet the sands of time_**

**_til morn we shower the dead with tears_**

**_and shun the living with hate sublime_**

**_the effigy of our years . . ._**

Someone... Someone was singing. Slowly. Softly.

_**we hold their heart we hold their lies**_

_**we play the part of friendly foe**_

_**because, you see, we all will die**_

_**and to hell these hateful souls will go**_

The words were enough to make one uncomfortable, but... what really sent a chill down his spine was the tone this person was using. It... It sounded like a fucking child. Like a kid singing some happy little nursery rhyme.

**_how fun it is, their flesh to cut_**

**_the lovely red that blooms within_**

**_and nicely sew their mouths right up_**

**_and silence their awful din._**

**_I like to break their little bones_**

**_the ones who go astray_**

**_fill their throats will molten stones_**

**_so they never get away_**

Demyx turned his gaze back to Axel with renewed terror. Axel returned the look, his own face a touch paler than it was before.

**_Because this is the law of our kin_**

**_when the little sheep go astray_**

**_I find them through their hidden sin_**

**_and take their souls away_**

_**The tides of fate meet the sands of time**_

_**Til morn we shower the dead with tears**_

_**and shun the living with hate sublime**_

_**the effigy of our years . . .**_

A crack of lighting lit the sky outside, the roaring thunder nearly defeaning. The lights flickered and dimmed violently before going out completely. Demyx let out a startled shriek as Axel fumbled to turn the flashlight on. "Dem, stop squeezing my arm so tight..!" he hissed quietly, "I can't feel my hand!"

"A-A-Axel..?" he stuttered, pointing a shaking finger down the hall.

Axel shone the flashlight where Demyx indicated, brow furrowing as he carefully scanned the end of the hall. The voice had stopped, and now the only thing to reach his ears was the storm raging against the walls outside of the house. Nevertheless, he kept the beam of light carefully trained down the hall, noting the slight tremor in his voice when he cleared his throat and said, "I... ah... I don't see anything, Dem. Maybe it's just the kid watching something on the TV."  
Demyx seemed unconvinced, pressing closer to the redhead's side. "Dem, come on, there's nothing to be -"

_**The little sheep who went astray**_

_**no help will come from your call**_

Both of them jumped, the beam of light, flicking from one side of the hall to the other. It definitely wasn't the TV that was making that noise. The power was out... which mean that someone was down there. Someone was down there, and they weren't sure if they wanted to find out.

_**will you not come and play today**_

_**little sheep at the end of the hall**_

Axel and Demyx froze, the blood in their veins running cold as they realized the song was referring to them. What's more, the beam of light found the source of the morbidly creepy singing... It was coming from the open door, the one that lead to Roxas' room.

* * *

**Sorry it isn't as long as it could be you guys, but I've got a lot of stuff I need to do right now. However, I do have a few chapters written up that I'm currently revising and editing. So more chapters soon.**


	6. CHAPTER FIVE: THE VOICE

CHAPTER FIVE: THE VOICE

* * *

The hell in his mind wouldn't stop. The voices screaming at him, dragging him through the blazing white haze that threatened to destroy his whole world. Nothing was there, but everything was alive. The walls, the air the cold that tore at his broken skin. It sang along his skin, their broken words lighting his heart with a terror he had never known before. He was dreaming, just dreaming. Nothing was real, nothing was there! But they continued to scream, to shout for a release from within him. Blinding flashes of light followed the god awful pain in his chest, the broken cry tearing from his throat as his world slowly faded to black. Where was he? Who was he?

_I'm scared,I'm scared… I'm scared!_

Where were those people who had found him? The ones who said they would watch over him? Who said that they would protect him? Was no one there to pull him from this dream? To free him from this hell? God let it all be done! Make this pain go away!

**_Where could you go, even if they found you?_**

_…huh?_

**_Where would they be, if you never found your way back?_**

_Who's there?_

**_What is the freedom you seek, if not a pathetic dream of what can never be?_**

The darkness swirled before him, molten eyes breaking the black to gaze at his formless consciousness. They were gold, leering orbs. Devoid of any warmth, and brimming with utter hatred. Nothing in those hues offered any promise of kindness in them as they hovered closer and closer until they barely three inches from his own.

_**Who will find you in this place, the hell that is now your home? The demons that grow as your own? The depths of darkness you see, are the ones that created me. You pathetic little thing. Thinking you could ever be free. Your lies will kill you.**_

_What do you mean?_

_**You will see…**_

Everything began to shift once more, spinning out of control with a force strong enough to send him careening at inhuman speeds down, down, down…. Further into the darkness that deemed itself to be his hell. Roxas screamed, but only once. A pair of brutally strong hands gripped his throat, effectively quieting his terrified screams. They were closing around him, unseen fingers grasping with a brutally strong force.

**_You will be silent. Not a soul is to hear you. Not a soul is to know. YOu have come to me, now I cannot let you go. YOu will never be free. Never. Your life is meaningless. _**

The hands never ceased their crushing grip on his throat, growing tighter and tighter until Roxas heard a horrifying 'snap' as the bones in his throat began to break. No air could go in, no air could come out. There was only pain, agonizing, unending pain and darkness. There was no slate-haired stranger, no rainy skies to look up to, no lilting voice that calmed his nerves, no phone calls to ease the silence. Nothing but fear, pain and a desperately deep sorrow that dragged him down further than he thought was humanly possible. Is this what the end meant? Was this truly hell? Had he died in his sleep? No, it couldnt be, and yet it all felt so real! So terrifyingly real. No, no, no, nonononono!

I'm scared!.. I'm scared! Christ, this couldn't be real! Wake up! Oh please god, someone! Wake up! Wake up! His mind pleaded, reaching screaming with all of his heart and soul for someone to save him, for some kind of salvation he didnt know he was pleading for. If it meant he could leave behind the darkness that spoke with hellish growls and gazed with hateful golden hues, then he would be willing to believe in anything at all.

_Please..! Please!_

**WAKE UP!**

The sudden familiar voice shook him from his terror, the roaring winds in his ears giving way to a different kind of sound.

**CAN YOU HEAR ME?**

_Who?_

**WAKE UP!**

_Who was there? _

He reached out, thoughts lost somewhere in the abyss beneath him as he willed himself to grasp onto that tiny bit of hope that maybe someone really had come to save him. He reached... and begged. Begged for whoever was out there to tear him from this madness. To free him from the bone breaking force that was trying to end him. To silence the horrid snarls that lit anew in his ears when he tried to break free.

**GODDAMN IT, WAKE THE FUCK UP!**

All at once, everything ceased. The only thing Roxas saw was green. A green as deep as the forest, as beautifully captivating as jade. More agonizingly beautiful than an emerald in the morning sun. They were angry, scared, and close enough that he could see the tiny flecks of gold near the irises. Whatever breath he had left was gone in that moment. He blinked away the tears that blurred his vision as his fingers reached out and touched the face before him. Sharp features, cat like and stern. Hair as fiery as the morning sun on the horizon. A look of confusion passed those emerald optics, but made no move to shy from his touch. The skin was smooth and firm beneath his skin. There was no more darkness, no more hateful whispers and mournful cries. Just the guest room in some stranger's house and the warmth of another human being that had pulled him from whatever nightmare that had to be.

"Oi, kid... you alright? You with us now?" the confusion was replaced with a wary concern, "Kid? hello? Hey, you there?"

Roxas let out a broken sob as he flung his arms around the red-headed savior's neck, whimpering pitifully into his neck. He didnt care who this man was, or where he was, or what that dream could possibly mean. He didn't give a shit about anything at all except for the fact that he was awake, awake and away from the hateful gaze of the demon that lurked in his memory. Everything except the warmth of this stranger was meaningless. It grounded him, brought him back. Saved him, even. No, nothing else mattered. Because so long as he was awake, he was safe.

* * *

To say that he was scared would have been an understatement. there was a power out in Dem's house on a rainy fucking night with nothing to use as protection against any potential boogie-man hiding around the goddamn corner. Seriously, just what the fuck even was all this? Scared? No, not at all. Not in the least. Nope. As Axel shone his flashlight on the open door, hearing a soft cackle come from its darkened depths, he could swear he just about shit the whole goddamn statue of liberty in his pants in that moment. This was NOT what he had planned when he woke up this morning. This was NOT what he wanted to do with his day off. He could deal with watching the shit get scared out of some poor sap on the big screen but was less than enthusiastic about casting the main character of this cliche little tirade. Seriously, man, fuck that shit.

"Axeeeeelll!" the quivering whine brought the redhead down from rampant thoughts as he cast a glance at Demyx's face. The poor idiot looked like he was ready to burst into tears. 'He must be just as afraid of this shit as I am', Axel thought, 'Maybe even more so. Shit, think, Ax, think. Fuck this fucking shit, goddamnit'.  
He took a deep breath and let it out through his nose, straightening his back with a mock courage that he most certainly did not feel at the moment. It was either they both go investigate, or stay in the doorway of the kitchen until the lights came back on. But without knowing where the breakers for the lights might be, and little to no estimate on how long the power would actually be out, that option seemed like a no-go. Though with the amount of sheer fucking terror he felt at the moment, the idea appealed more to him than marching down the expanse of the overly decorated hallway into the room of god only knows what. Axel took one careful step after another, Demyx at his elbow, shuffling with great effort.

It felt like an eternity until they reached the open door, both of them leaning back as Axel pushed the door open with his toes. The door opened with little resistance, but neither of the two were overly eager to go in. Hell, Axel was to damn afraid to shine his flashlight in there for the fear of some asshat in a clown mask jumping out and screaming at him. But his arm was beginning to fall asleep with how tightly Demyx was gripping it, and he knew he was only adding to the nervousness the longer he took to grow a pair. (Not to say that he didn't have any. But they were certainly on vacation at the moment). With a last ditch effort at what little courage he had left of the moment, he shone his flashlight into the middle of the room and directly upon one blonde boy twitching spasmodically on the carpeted floor, blankets tangled every which way around his torso. Axel nearly dropped his flashlight in shock as sapphire orbs locked onto his, pleading for help.

"holyfucking-"

"Oh my god!" Demyx's hands flew to his mouth, causing him to feeling minutely relieved to have proper blood flow in his arm again. "He's having a seizure!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oohhh, jesus fucking christ." Axel ran forward, dropping and skidding on his knees next to the twitching form. "Shit, shit, shit!" He stretched out his arms, hovering over the blonde's body. He didn't know if he should grab him, sit him up or leave him be out of fear of hurting him further. "Dem! Fucking call someone will you?!"

"I'm trying! I'm trying! But 911 isn't even answering I mean seriously what the fuck I cant-!" He was freaking out, pulling at his hair, a white knuckle grip on the phone to his ear. "No one is answering! Jesus... oh my god what are we going to do?"

"I don't know! I'm not a fucking doctor!" real terror colored his voice, eyes returning to the now motionless body that lay in a tangled heap beneath him. "Dem! DEM HES NOT FUCKING MOVING. HES NOT FUCKING-"

"I CAN SEE THAT!"

"ooooh god... hey! Kid! Wake up! Hey!" He dropped the flashlight to the floor and grabbed the frail shoulders of the seemingly lifeless boy. "Can you hear me?"

"He's fucking dead, isn't he? He's dead, oh my god. oh my god, oh my god."

"He's not dead, Dem, calm the fuck down! And get somebody on that goddamn phone or I swear-!"

"DON'T YOU THINK I'M TRYING?" He screeched back, waving the utterly useless thing in Axel's face.

"Then call fucking Zexion, for christ's sake! I don't care WHO the fuck you get on that fucking phone! So long as they know what the fuck to do, because WE SURE AS HELL DON'T!" he turned his attention back to Roxas while Demyx hit the speed dial on his phone. It rang only once before a bored tone broke the silence on the other side. Axel paid no attention to the hurried explanation his best friend gave, but instead focused on gathering up the limp form in his arms and trying to figure out whether or not the little blonde really was dead.

"Come on, kid... come on! Wake up! I did NOT take you from that place just to have you die like this." there was something in his chest right then that threatened to suffocate him completely. He hadn't known that whatever the kid had was this bad, he just thought that maybe he could save him, that maybe he was doing the right thing. But he was beginning to doubt that such a decision was the right course of action. Not when the outcome was going to be this. Not when some innocent kid he thought he could save was going to just up and die on him because Axel had hoped to do at least one thing right for once. Fuck.. this wasn't supposed to happen!

"Wake up..." why did his chest hurt at the thought of this complete stranger dying? "Wake up!" the flash of those blue eyes pleading as they met his... "Wake up!" He just wanted to do something right, he just wanted to help, he just wanted... he just..-!

"Goddamn it, WAKE THE FUCK UP!"

Electric blue snapped open and locked on to his face, sending a palpable shock through his body that rendered him speechless. They were hazy with confusion, glistening as tears pooled at their corners. Pale lips let out a shuddering breath and shaking fingers reached up and touched either side of his face. The touch was enough to bring him back to his senses. He was only a few inches from his face, searching the stricken features with utter confusion. He cleared his throat briefly, not trusting his voice otherwise and spoke carefully so as not to startle the blonde or cause any further reactions that might be unwanted.

"Oi, kid... you alright? You with us now?" No answer. Those trembling fingers stayed on his cheeks, hesitant eyes now filling with realization. Was the kid going to freak out? God he hoped not. He spoke carefully again, hoping to get some kind of response. "Kid? hello? Hey, you there?"

"Axel? Is he... alive?" came the hushed squeak from the doorway. Before Axel could offer any sarcastic response, he felt a pair of arms wrap themselves around his neck as a body collided with his. He loud out a strange sound of surprise when a shock of golden hair covered his face. He felt hot breaths alight on his neck as the whimpering mess of a boy sobbed pitifully.  
He brought up his hands instinctively, but hesitated before making a move to hold the blonde. He gripped him tightly, murmuring words of comfort into the messy locks. There wasn't much else he could do until some form of help arrived or until the lights came on. Something seriously fucked up had happened in here and Axel was NOT going to question it right now. Whatever the heck had happened was over for now and if it meant he could avoid another horror movie scenario like that again, he would keep his mouth shut until Zexion arrived with a miracle diagnosis or some shit. He adjusted his hold on the frail form and began to rock slowly back and forth, a calming motion normally used on small children, but seemingly effective at the moment. He cast a glance at the sandy-haired blonde and caught the same look of utter confusion and fear that probably reflected his own. Neither of them knew what any of this meant or what they could possibly do to make the situation any better. The best they could hoped for right now was a quick fix of a solution, a band-aid over a gash that would undoubtedly bleed through the sorry excuse for a patch job. Anything to quell the fears in their minds.

'What the fuck did I just get myself into'?

* * *

**Sorry for the hiatus. Moving down south and finding a job sure took a lot of time and effort! **

**I'm wondering if anyone is still reading this at all? The internet is weird, so I'm not getting much to work with here. Again, please excuse the haitus, I didn't mean to be gone this long! Whoops!**

**So, how was your summer vacation, everybody? Anything new to report?**


	7. CHAPTER SIX: Oreo's and OJ

**Hey you guys! Sorry for the long wait! I've been super busy with work! Whew... =w= Work has been a bit crazy since we got all of the seasonal stuff in! Yay for fall and halloweeny stuff! **

**Welp, here you go! Thanks to all of you who have read this far! I appreciate each and every one of you who continue to support me! Please feel free to tell me what you think! :D Happy reading, friends!**

* * *

**CHAPTER SIX: Oreos and OJ**

* * *

He was warm. Warm in every sense of the word, with his voice lingering in the darkness, the touch of his shaking fingers as they clutched at Axel's left arm. It was still black as pitch in the fucking house and the storm had only let up enough to dull the sound of thunder from a deafening roar to a muffled murmur in the distance. But if that rain didn't let up soon, he was sure they might just drown. He would live at the bottom of a proverbial sea. This tiny town would become the next Atlantis. Only without-

"Axel, Zexion says he can't get out of the office. He wants to wait until the rain lets up a little before chancing another trip back here." Uncertain peridot optics glanced nervously at the trembling blonde clutching at Axel's chest like a newborn baby monkey. "I mean I understand, but… Do you think the kid will be, ah, alright?"

"Fuck if I know." The redhead mumbled dragging a hand over his face. Rubbing the sleep away wasn't working for him like he thought it would. He had been sitting on the floor with this kid for about an hour and a half since the little fiasco earlier that nearly gave him a goddamn heart attack. His ass went numb a while ago, and his legs soon followed. The need to get up and stretch was almost overwhelming. And yet… "Hey, kid. You ganna be okay?"

"…" there was a muffled whimper, but nothing more. The kid might as well have been a mute at this point. (_'Roxas.'_ Zexion had scolded them over the phone. _'That_ kid's _name is Roxas. Stop being rude and call him by his name or he'll wind up thinking everyone in your house is a neanderthall. Not that his assumption would be wrong.' That guy. It was a wonder he even tolerated him_). They couldn't get a response from him, and he wouldn't let go of Axel's arm. So they just settled for sloppily wrapping him up in the comforter that he had dragged with him off the bed and trying to coax him into letting the blood flow back into the lower half of Axel's now circulation deprived legs.

"Let's just settle for something hot to drink and nap or some shit. I cannot take any more surprises for the night. I'm gettin' too old for this, Dem." He groaned.

"You say that like it was _my_ idea to bring a little runaway into the house." Demyx muttered.

"_Correction_: Kidnapee." Axel raised his hand and pointed, the kid- Roxas'- hands still firmly glued to it, "He didn't run away. I apparently kidnapped him, according to the good and faithful doctor."

"You know he hates it when you call him that." His best friend set the phone down on the dresser, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Says it reminds him of Vexen. You know, since he was considered the ultimate quack in the business."

He had to laugh at that. The guy truly was some sort of psychotic. Couldn't seem to tell the difference between people and guinea pigs. He even took to experimenting on a poor dog that wandered around in his neighborhood once. The reporters were all over that the second they found the poor mangled corpse in an alley. Nobody wants to cross paths with that guy if they wanted to keep their body parts in their proper place. Man, the things that guy did. He was constantly mocked in the office whether he was or wasn't there. Poor fucked up old man.  
"The guy must have inhaled too many fumes from all those chemicals back in med school."

"Wouldn't be the first I heard of it." Demyx snorted. "Probably huffed kryptonite for all we know." Another bark of laughter filled the air, followed by a giggle-snort on his best friend's part. It eased the atmosphere a bit. Enough for Axel to momentarily forget the touch of warm, fragile fingers along his arm. But only for a moment. The more he thought about it, the more prominent that sensation became in his mind, until he found himself looking down at those pale fingers clutching at him desperately. Gods above they were so thin. When was the last time this kid ate something that didn't involve medicated horse pills? The nails were bitten to the quick, tiny scars along the curve of his index finger. Probably from his teeth pulling at the fragile skin out of a nervous habit. Thin wrists and a slender forearm riddles with even more angry looking scars…

"Ax? You okay?"

"Hm?" Startled out of his thoughts, he heaved a deep sigh, closing his eyes. "Yeah. Yeah I'm good. Just thinking."

"About?"

"About how I'm hungrier than the hippos on that shitty as board game of yours that you've kept in your closet since we were in grade school-"

"It had sentimental value!"

"- _and_ how I would REALLY love to get up and stretch out before my legs fall right off of my body."

"…c…happen."

Two pairs of eyes whipped to the shivering bundle of blankets in Axel's lap, wide with surprise. Either Roxas had actually spoken to them, or blankets were finally enlightened enough to become a sentient being. They waited, each holding their breath and exchanging vapid looks of frantic uncertainty. After a beat, Demyx cleared his throat and decided to ask the talking blanket to repeat that. Said talking blanket bundle shifted slightly, one deep blue eye peeking out at the sandy blonde.

"…" There was a shaky breathe and a muffled reply, "That can't happen." It had a slight rasp and was almost too quiet to hear, but still there. "Your legs can't fall off because of that."

"Well yeah I know that. But try telling that to this guy." He thumbed in the direction of the redhead before leaning forward and talking quietly behind his hand. "He once thought his arm would fly off into outer space if he attached enough rockets to it when we were kids-"

**SMACK.**

"_OW_!" Demyx rubbed at the back of his head, seething as he rubbed it.

"That is NOT what I said! Don't go spreading shit like that to people! I'll wind up with a bad reputation because of you!" Axel fumed.

"Or one worse than the one you already have." He raised his hands in surrender when he saw the abusive palm coming for the back of his head again. "Mercy! I won't say another word! I swear on Lady!"

"On your sitar? That old thing? It can barely have a string plucked without letting out multiple dying garbles of god only know what." But he lowered his hand all the same, opting to flick his friend on the nose instead. "Get that thing fixed already."

Demyx chuckled. "Soon, soon. But putting that aside," he turned his attention to the questioning sapphire hues blinking back at him from beneath the comforter. "Your name is Roxas, right?" the boy nodded. "Do you, uh, know where you are?" A pause before a small shake of the head. "Right, so um. I'm Demyx, and the guy you're sitting on is named Axel, and this is his house and the lights went out and um," he looked to Axel as if asking for more input knowing he was floundering for something to say.

He sighed deeply, carefully pushing the blonde off of his lap and gingerly stretching his cramped muscles. "And I'm starving. I'll bet you are too. So as soon as I get some decent circulation back, we are going to get some grub. How 'bout it, blondie? What re you feeling in the mood for?"

The blankets slipped from the small form, the round and pensive face finally revealed in the dimming beam of the flashlight that stood on the dresser, pointing at the ceiling. At first, neither of them expected an answer since all Roxas was doing was shifting around until he was leaning against the wooden bed post. But then he nodded, as if to confirm his decision and mumbled,

"Oreos and Orange juice."

* * *

**_o0o0o0o0o_**

* * *

He had never seen such looks on a human face before. The mullet headed one looked like he ate something sour enough to make him constipated while the other looked like his eyebrows were just about ready to make lift off. They looked so utterly confused, Roxas almost laughed. Almost. He was still in some stranger's house with little to no information on just where said house might be on the map. He could be three skips away from Bermuda for all he knew. That, and he had a pounding headache and a gummy feeling in his mouth. There wasn't much to laugh about considering. So he kept his face locked in a neutral expression while he waited for their response.

"Excuse me?"

"Can you repeat that?"

Roxas' eye twitched in slight aggravation. It was always the same response when he asked for it. Even Sora had reacted the same way when they used to pick out snacks as kids. "Oreos and orange juice." he mumbled. "If you don't have it, then-"

"Oh, no, no. We have it alright. But people in this household eat oreos with _MILK_, like the non-aliens that we are."

"Axel!"

"What, Dem? It's fucking _weird_! That's fucking UNNATURAL. They're OREOS. Not bacon." (Roxas didn't point out that bacon wasn't dipped in orange juice either). The redheaded asshole made a grande gesture, spreading his arms wide and then bringing them together to point directly at him. "Who in the everlasting fuck eats an OREO with ORANGE JUICE? How is that even NATURAL?"

"Why are you making a big deal out of this? Out of all things?" Demyx sighed.

"Maybe because I got my libido back after the promise of food."

"Is that even a proper word to use at a time like this?" Roxas retorted, raising a slim eyebrow.

"More proper than oreos and fucking OJ, I can tell you that much." The asshole shot back. Roxas really was starting not to like this guy.

"AXEL." The tone in the mullet head's voice had a warning in it. He turned to Roxas, nodding at him. "We'll get you something to eat. I was in the middle of making something before the power went out. So until it comes back on, there's kind of a limit as to what we can and cannot eat at the moment."

Roxas nodded and shifted his position on the floor so his legs were outstretched between the mullet head and the flaming asshole. (How appropriate, he thought, amused). But was momentarily startled by the way the man had quickly jerked his leg away from his, as if he had been burned by something. With narrowed eyes, he regarded the stranger. This guy... "What did you say your name was again?"

His question was met with a disinterested scoff. "Axel." He then proceeded to draw his name out in the air, "A-X-E-L. Got it memorized?"

"I probably don't. Your callous personality is enough to wipe that from mind." Roxas responded.

The sandy blonde- Dum-something- snorted loudly and covered his mouth. But it didn't hide the wide smile that hid beneath those long fingers. Asshole-Axel-blinked before scowling heavily. "I preferred you comatose, you little shit. Your attitude problem makes you look like a brat with no manners."

"I don't have an attitude problem. You have a problem with my attitude. And that's not my problem."

Demyx, probably sensing the tension in the air, clapped his hands loudly and leaned forward to grab at Roxas' hand and stood up. "Well then! Now that our little introductions are done, let's get some food!" He swiped the standing flashlight from the dresser. "Come on, you. Let's go. I'm pretty sure you had enough time to recover. I'm done sitting in this creepy ass room!"

Axel didn't respond. Only fixed those deep green eyes on Roxas before slowly standing up... Jesus fucking christ this guy was so goddamn tall. Holy fuck. He looked like a walking twig bug but the muscle in his body was clearly visible beneath the creamy skin. Wait, what? He shook his head. The redhead regarded him with curiousity, looking him up and down before moving to snatch the flashlight out of his friend's hands and stalking off down the hall, leaving the two of them left in the darkness of the guest room.

"He can be a bit rough, at first." the male whispered to him. "Don't count him as a bad guy, he can just be a bit abrasive sometimes. He'll come around, I promise."

"Oi! Get a move on or I'm leaving you to grope walls until the lights come back on!"

* * *

**_0o0o0o0o_**

* * *

"This is weird." Axel mumbled for the tenth time since they arrived in the kitchen. "This just ain't natural."

They couldn't open the fridge since they didn't want the food to spoil faster without the cold air, and everything else required some form of electricity to cook food. Roxas wasn't in the mood for junk food even though they had a substantial amount of it in this place for some odd reason, and the only thing they had were a few kitchen tools and a bag of marshmallows that immediately caught Roxas' attention. A few kabob skewers later and here they were; a small fire lit on the old gas stove his father had kept, roasting marshmallows on the small open flame. While the redhead seemed distressed and disgruntled, the guy named Demyx seemed to be enjoying himself immensely. Roxas himself was content, a small smile alight on his face as he chewed the fluffy, gooey goodness. It wasn't oreos and orange juice, but it was the next best thing in his opinion.

"This was a great idea, Roxas! This is so fun!" Demyx beamed, pinching his marmallow to test it before putting it back over the flame. "I'll bet we could take something out of the freezer and do this too!"

"No, we aren't letting out any of the cold air." Axel said sternly.

"Oh, right, I forgot. Oh well. Marshmallows are good too." He shrugged. "Just until the power comes back. Then, we can make some real food!"

They each sat on a tall wooden stool, ones that were normally used for an island bar in the kitchen, leaning near the small flame. There was no real conversation, but for some reason it still felt comfortable. Roxas had forgotten what it was like to have a room feel so full with the presence of another, their voice filling the air in a way that his alone could not. It was something so utterly comforting despite the fact that these two were complete strangers who had somehow taken him to this place. He couldn't say he minded much at all, not that he could. What was strange was the utter lack of discomfort he felt as the two friends spoke boisterously to eachother while he watched them, chewing a marshmallow thoughtfully. Stranger still was the growing sense of familiarity that began to grow in his chest the longer he stared at their faces. There was something there that just made him think that maybe...

"-and I'm tellin' you that that isn't true! Right, Roxas?"

He dropped the skewer he was holding, frozen. Those emerald optics bore into him, with a burning familiarity that was almost crippling. Catlike and narrow, utterly hypnotizing. What was it? This sensation? Axel's face went from mildly annoyed to concerned almost instantly.

"Oi. Roxas. You good?"

No, it was just his imagination. It had to be. There was just no way he knew this guy or his doofy little sidekick. Besides, he would surely have remembered a pair of eyes like that if he did. Especially with hair like that. I mean seriously, was that even natural or was the guy just a hair color junkie? He probably got his affects from his fashion friend over there. Roxas shook his head and leaned to pick the skewer back up.

"Yeah, I'm good. Just thought I saw a bug on your shoulder." he shrugged as Axel swatted at himself quickly, trying to hid a grin. "Must have been my imagination." he said innocently. That earned him a scowl and a few muttered profanities along with a confused look from Demyx.

He wouldn't think about it now. It wasn't worth the headache and it had been a long, long day for him. His head still hurt like a bitch and his arms ached painfully. It was one day he was sure he would always remember, but for now, it was one he just wanted to forget. So he drowned it all out with the warm sweetness of the toasted marshmallows and the idle banter that broke out between the three of them every now and then. For now, even if it was only temporary, he just wanted to ignore the details that lead up to this moment and just enjoy it for what it was worth. Because he knew once the 'good doctor' came, he would have more than enough reality slapped onto his plate. The questions could wait. Roxas was content to just forget for the time being.

* * *

**I'm kind of surprised I was able to get this out when I did, to be honest. Life sure can be unpredictable... But having people to talk to and help support you does wonders, I tell you. **

**By the way, the marshmallow thing was something my mother would do with me when I was a child. It's a fond memory of mine!**

**How have you all been this week? Have you been enjoying the season so far? **


End file.
